For Brooklyn
by AmbrLupin
Summary: “If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn...”The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them, help the Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf safe, and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon..and Brooklyn with him.
1. Prologue: If someone is strong nuff

1For Brooklyn

By:Ambrlupin

Prologue: If someone is strong nuff...

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I hate that word. To show weakness means you are a sissy, and I aint no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn never falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was a dark night in lower Manhattan, so dark not even the lights lit up past a few feet. It was an inky darkness, one so thick you could feel it in the air. David Jacobs makes his way down the street, looking intently for some sign, something would give him away...

"Hullo Davey." A voice cut through his concentration, making him glance sharply over toward a nearby alley. Sure enough a math was struck and a pinprick of fire cast a shadow over Jack Kelley's face as he lights the cigarette hanging from his lips. "What are ya doin' out ere this late?" He let the match fall and snubbed it out on the ground.

David's shoulders eased up and he casually strolled toward his friend. "Looking for you, of course. Sarah's been worried, you havent been around much lately."

Jack shrugged, his cowboy hat in his hands instead of around his neck, "I'se bin busy. Have you heard bout Brooklyn?"

The younger looked at him with a raised eyebrow and leaned on the wall next to him, arms crossed. "What about Brooklyn? I havent heard anything."

"Thats the probl'm." He let a stream of smoke issue from his mouth, "Its too quiet, I don't like it."

"You don't like anything, Jack." He laughed, trying to play it off, but one look at the other's face stopped him cold. "You...You really think something's wrong, don't you?"

"Spot's neva bin this quiet, Davey. Neva." He took another drag from his cigarette and sighed deeply, "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..."

He trailed off, but he didnt need to finish his sentance, David, with a grim look on his face, could only reach for the other's hand, taking the nicotine stick and bringing it to his mouth.

Jack blinked at him with surprise. "I'se didnt know you smoke."

"I don't."

The two friends stood there, in the inky darkness, watching in silence as the sun rose, painting their turf with pink and purple. David sighed, "Shall I get the guys ready?"

Jack's eyes were focused on the slow moving bodies that were starting to cross onto Manhattan territory. "Yeah, tell em to make some room for the Brooklyn boys."

As David made his way to inform the newsies, Jack crossed over to meet the bloody, beaten, and...now this was hardly a term to describe Brooklyn but it was true nonetheless, broken boys. "What happened? Where's Spot?" He had already looked for the smart mouthed sharpshooter, but hadn't seen him.

The nearest Brooklyn newsie looked at him, eyes full of pain. That more than anything, frightened Jack, made him cold from his head to his feet. "What? Where's Spot!" He was slightly panicked now, if someone had hurt Spot...

"Spot...He...He..aint here no mor'." The boy's hands clenched at his sides. "He aint eva gonna be here no mor'."

No. It was too much, and Jack had staggered backwards, hitting the wall behind him and falling down it with a thump. "Dead?"

"Dead? No!" The newsie looked horrified, "No...Cowboy...He aint dead."

"Then what...?"

"They took 'im." He sniffed, but no tears would fall. "They took 'im...and they took Brooklyn."

_"If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." _

No, Jack hadn't needed to say it. If someone was strong enough to beat down Brooklyn...

They didn't have a chance in hell.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0--0-0--0-0-0-0-0--0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sorry its so short- its really only a teaser. If you guys want me to keep writing this then drop me a review okay? Pwease? Bye!


	2. Brooklyn neva gives up

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter One: Brooklyn neva gives up

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

This chapter is dedicated to PatriotsxDreams, not only my first reviewer, but my beta, who made sure I didnt add twenty thousand accents to everyone's speech...tho I think I did it anyway... -grins-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse are a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

With Jack helping them, the newsies of Brooklyn were able to limp toward the safe-house that had been built for Manhattan after the strike. It wasn't real special or nothing, but it was home. And, Jack noted as he looked over the guys he was helping, they certainly looked like they needed a home.

He wanted desperately to ask what had happened, who had done this, but he held his tongue. Partly due to the fact that they didn't look quite like they would answer him, and partly because his mind was reeling from what he saw when he got to the safe-house.

"What is goin on ere!" He cried, striding forward, boots pounding the dirt. The doors were barred, leaving David outside, banging on them and yelling at the top of his voice for them to let him in ."Davey-"

A rock slammed into t he dirt in front of Jack's feet, and his wide eyes sprung up to see Kid Blink hanging out the window, eyes cold. "We aint housin' em ere, Jack!"

"What the heck is yer problem!"

"Someone's afta them!" Kid pointed angrily at the Brooklyn boys, "And we aint gonna keep em ere! Thems people are gonna do what they did to them and we aint gonna take it!"

Rage burned in the elder's eyes and he stalked to the door, pulling his legs back and kicking the door down. "IM the leader ere!" He yelled, "Not you! Now get yer butts movin and get some bandages!"

At first, the Manhattan newsies refused, but as their eyes cleared and got a good look at what had stumbled onto their doorstep, they couldn't help but want to help, and that was before David got onto them too.

"What did you think you were doin'!" David was so livid, his accent was showing, and that was a rare occurrence indeed. "Those people helped you befor' and ye turn em away when they need ya! How cruel can ya be!"

One of the Brooklyn newsies raised his head, revealing pain filled brown eyes. "Naw, David. Let it be. Brooklyn neva 'cepted pity!"

"Shorty..." Jack began, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "We aint givin ya pity. We're helpin ya because ya helped us when we needed it." Cowboy's eyes ran over his newsies. "Aint we?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, Jack." and "Whateva ya say, Cowboy." David, who had apparently just noticed the state of their guests let out a shocked, "What the heck happened to you guys!" Which wasn't too smart on his account.

At once a silence fell over the group, on both sides. Jack shot his best friend an irritated glare and the younger's eyes fell. "I...Im sorry. I didn't mean to.."

"No." Shorty shook his head as he looked behind him. "I'sa thinks ya need ta know."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

_Another bottle exploded, sending green glass every which way. Slipping another pebble into his slingshot, Spot pulled it back and aimed. _

_SHATTER. There went the last one that he had lined up on the fence. Oh well, there were plenty more where those came from. Slipping his weapon into his belt loop he made his way toward the stack of beer bottles, flipping a few in his hand as he swept glass out of the way to stand them up as targets. _

_He was bored. _

_"Hey, Spot." A voice asked from behind him. Turning his head slightly, the leader of Brooklyn raised an eyebrow. _

_"Whaddya want Red?" He snapped. _

_Hardly intimidated by his best friend, Red smirked as his hand moved quickly to his slingshot, locked, loaded and shot in a split second. The rock soared through the air, aimed directly at Spot's forehead. _

_His hand snapping up, Spot's hand closed over the missile, centimeter's from his face. Lowering his hand he gazed at the other for a moment before smirking. "Anyones else'd be on theys back righ' now." _

_Red slipped his slingshot back into his belt-loop. "Anyones else." He agreed, but frowned, "Whats de mahta, Spot? Sometins bothrin' ya." _

_The leader snorted as he finished lining up the bottles, "What gave yous that idea?" _

_Sitting down on a nearby crate, Red braced his head with one hand, "Youse didnt try ta hit me bac'." Anyone knew that something was wrong with their leader, but no one had the courage to ask him face-to-face, except for Red that was. _

_Spot didnt have an answer for that one so he just walked back to where he had started. He took a deep breath, and then his hand was a blur, load and shoot. One by one the bottles shattered, a sort of music only Spot was able to create. _

_"Spot." Red murmured softly, his voice cutting through the air with more force than a shout. The leader faltered, and the unthinkable happened. _

_Spot missed. _

_The last bottle seemed to glint merrily at him, mocking him as he stared at it in shock. He had never missed, never. His aim was perfect, even in the midst of battle, with yelling on either side. How could one whisper cause him to...?_

_"There's sometin wrong, Spot. I aint stupid, I know sometins bothrin ya." _

_"Whaddya youse know!" Spot yelled, spinning on him, hand clenched around his slingshot. "Whaddya think youse know! YOUSE DON'T KNOW ME!"_

_Red looked slightly hurt by this, but Spot hardly cared. "STOP TRYIN' TA MAKE FRIENDS WIT ME! I DON'T NEED YA!" _

_He knew the minute those words left his mouth he had went too far. _

_Red stared at him for a moment before his eyes hardened and he got to his feet. "Fine. I'se leavin." _

_"What?" Spot blinked at him. _

_"I'se leavin Brooklyn." He repeated, "I'll see ya 'round Leadah." Spinning on his heel, his red hair flashing like fire in the sunlight, Red made his way out of Brooklyn. _

_"Red!" Spot cried, chasing after him, one hand on his hat to keep it from flying off. "Red- WAIT!" _

_Red didnt wait. _

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Spot hasn't said a word since?" David asked with wide eyes.

"Red lef' too." Shorty said sadly, "If he had been there, we'd might'a had a chance."

"But I don't see how that relates to-"

The doors of the safe house flew open with a bang, a young man standing there, a large brimmed hat hiding his face. And in his hands...The sunlight glinted off a cane, its gold head shining merrily, a red liquid having stained some of the handle and the side of the gold.

Jack's eyes narrowed, "Who are you!" He got up slowly from where he was sitting.

A smirk was all that was seen, as he turned to, not Jack, but at the Brooklyn boys that were stationed around the room, bandaged and resting. "Youse leadah was a fool. He's da one who let this happen to youse. We told him, we gave him the chance ta give up-"

He gagged, falling forward, the cane released by his hand, falling towards the floor. Before it hit, though, a hand reached down and snagged it up. "Youse a lot to learn bout Brooklyn." A new voice snarled. "Brooklyn neva gives up."

Shorty let out a happy little screech, sitting up from where he was laying down on a bed, his chest bandaged. "Red!"

Bringing the cane up in his hand, he touched it to his forehead and saluted them. "Brooklyn bois don't neva give up." He smiled with some humor as he kicked at the out cold boy at his feet.

"Queen's gotsa lot to learn."

"Queens!" David and Jack sputtered, "They're the ones behind dis!"

Red shook his head slightly, "Not jus' them. Bronx and Queen thinks by tryin ta take Brooklyn, they can control all the area."

"Not try to take, Red." Shorty's head fell, "They got it, they took Brooklyn."

The older newsie looked around at all of them, his eyebrow raised. "On that you'se wrong. Brooklyn isnt a thing they can take."

"Whatya talkin' bout, Reddy?" A new voice said wearily from a cot.

"Look it this way, Docks." He held the cane in his hands, looking at it with a thoughtful expression. "Youse is Brooklyn, I'se is Brooklyn, this is Brooklyn." He moved his hand and lifted the familiar memento of their leader, "And Spot is Brooklyn."

David smiled a bit as Red looked around at all of them, "I'se don't know bout youse, but I aint theirs, Spot aint theirs, and THIS." The cane punched the air. "Aint theirs."

All of the newsies cheered and whistled as Jack strode forward and shook the other's hand, spit sealing it. "Brooklyn aint theirs, and Manhattan is here ta help." Cowboy said with a smirk. "We'll show em what happens when ya mess with us!"

Red grinned and nodded, his grip on the cane tight.

_'We'se a coming for ya, Spot. Just hold on.'_

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Whooo, nice chapter! -smile- lots of angsty ness and action. Yays! Now review I command thee! The sooner I get reviews...the sooner I put up next chapter...


	3. Branded

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Two: Branded

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Torture stuff ahead! Also a rape scene, sorta. Please be wary if that stuff offends you.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse are a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

_"Aw come on, Spot!" Red stood over him, arms crossed. "How d'ya 'spect to be leadah like this?" He looked at the boy on the ground without an inch of remorse. "Leadah's don't let themselves be beaten by anything, they don't cry!" _

_Spot Conlon glared up at his friend through a sheen of tears. His golden brown hair was mussed, his hand holding his jaw. "Whaddya mean! DAT HURT!"_

_Red's eyes flashed fire, "Leadah's don't let themselves feel the pain, Spot.They'se better _

_than the pain, don't cha get that yet?" _

A hand tore across Spot's face, bringing him snapping back to reality. His eyes opened wearily and he moved his aching arms, pain shooting through his body, forcing a little moan from his mouth. He was chained to a wall behind him, hand and foot, and one or both of his arms felt broken.

"Hurts doesn't it?" A voice sneered as a hand gripped his chin and forced him to meet a pair of beady black eyes. "I told them not to mark you, but I see they failed me on that regard."

Spot forced his vision to stop reeling for at least a moment. The haze was clearing, but slowly. What had happened? Where was he? Who the HECK was touching him! He shook his head to dislodge the hand and slammed his eyes shut as the world swam.

He swore he wasn't going to do that again. As he waited for his equilibrium to even back out, he licked his dry and cracked lips and murmurred, "Who're you?"

Was that HIS voice? That weak little whimper? That was HIM!

A chuckle reached his ears. "Would it matter?" The hand that had been holding his chin slid down, over his shoulder and down his chest. Spot thought his heart was going to stop beating in his chest, his blood froze and he sucked in a breath of horror.

"Your boys put up quite a fight, I believe. You should be proud of them. A pity really."

Spot forced his attention away from the hand that was undoing his shirt. His eyes snapped open and they were flashing silver fire. "Whaddya mean 'A pity'!" His voice was sharp, angry, sounding more like himself every second.

The man in front of him, yes it was a man, maybe twenty or so, smirked as he pulled back slightly, black hair falling over those matching eyes. "Hehe, there we go. I was starting to wonder if they had brought me the wrong one after all, until I saw this look." He ran a finger along Spot's face.

Snarling and taking a bite at the fingers, Spot growled, "What didya do to my bois!"

"Lets just say...Brooklyn is under new management..."

Anger unlike anything he had ever felt before gripped the newsie and he bucked, trying to tear his body from the chains. "BROOKLYN IS MINE YA PIECE OF-" His voice cut off abruptly as something fire hot was pressed to the bare skin on the side of his body, above his pant line.

_"Leadah's don't let themselves feel the pain, Spot_."

_'Sorry Red...' _Somehow Spot's mind was able to form coherent thoughts even as he screamed in agony. _'I let ya down...again..." _His body jerked and twitched, eyes firmly sealed shut, voice cracking from the force of his screams.

Pleased, the man pulled his hand back, twirling the brand as he looked at his handiwork. It was a little blurred on the edges, because of the kid's moving, but it was still legible. An octagonal brand with big block letters that spelled 'Queens'. "There we go..." He purred, hands unbuttoning the other's pants.

Spot's head was laying on his chest, chest heaving as he panted. He was holding onto consciousness only by sheer will. They had branded him, he could see the red skin, smell it in the air. It hurt so much...He wanted to die. But he couldn't, he couldn't die...He was Brooklyn...And Brooklyn never died...nor did it give up.

"Do...whatcha's want wit dis body..." He murmurred weakly, steel in his voice. "But know...youse will neva get Brooklyn..." Darkness was starting to eat at his vision, and it took all his strength to keep his voice steady.

The pants fell and the other snickered, "You're too late on that, Spot Conlon. Brooklyn is ours...and you...are Queen's property now."

Those were the last words the now ex-leader of Brooklyn heard before he sagged in his bonds, out cold, and completely at the mercy of the man in front of him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Where did cha go, Red?" Shorty asked, propped up by a pillow. "Why werent ya 'ere when we's needed ya?"

Red sighed, a hand running through his hair. "Im sorry, Shorty. I was in Staten for a bit 'fore I heard what had happened 'ere. I ran all the ways back, but I was too late."

"Don't let that get youse down." Docks spoke up, "It aint yer fault, Reddy."

There was a murmur of agreements and Red nodded at all the Brooklyn newsies in thanks. "Red, I hate to ask, but how are ya gonna go about getting Spot back?"

That voice hadn't belonged to one of the Brooklyn boys. He turned in his seat to look behind him, running over David with a sharp eye before gesturing for him to take a seat. Most of the Manhattan newsies were out working, but the 'Mouth' as Spot called him, had stayed to help out.

"Well." The elder bit his lip, his gaze straying to where he had stuck the cane in his belt loop. He had cleaned off as much of the blood as he could, but a lot of it had stained the wood, and turned some of the gold a reddish color. He knew whose blood it was, and it sickened him.

Sickened him to think Spot was in those ruthless hands.

"I don't know." He admitted, but then his gaze hardened. "But I do know this. Im going ta Queens. Tonight."

There was an immediate protest from everyone around him, but he didnt care. He wasn't going to leave Spot there for one more day, no matter what. He knew what Queens was capable of. Perhaps better than anyone in this room.

David caught the movement as Red rubbed his side with a pained look on his face. "What is it?" He asked softly, startling the other so much he jumped out of his chair.

"Red?" Cal, one of the other newsies, sat up, his honey colored hair plastered to his head with sweat. "Red...wassa matter?"

Gulping, he shook his head, backing up slightly, but David was too quick for him. With speed Red would never have guessed he owned, he had reached out and snagged the other's shirt, popping the buttons with a hard jerk.

"HEY!" Red cried, but the damaged had been done.

"Wha...?" Shorty whispered, trying to sit up further, his eyes wide. "What...is that...?"

Spinning on his heel, Red decked David so hard the latter flew off the chair, hitting a nearby tray table and knocking it over. "How DARE you!"

The Brooklyn boys, the ones who could move more than a few inches, went to stop him, but Red had already grabbed his coat and swept toward the door, anger radiating from his eyes, cursing under his breath.

David was getting to his feet, wiping some blood off of his lip, when Red slammed the door behind him so hard the home shook. But not before they all got one last glimpse of his side...and the old, yet still slightly red brand that shone of it. And all knew now why he was so adamant at going after Spot.

The brand read 'Queens.'

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Oooh, guess Red DOES know better than any one else, eh? Hehe, me thinks Queens is gonna get soaked, whatcha think? I think so too. The reason why this one is up so early, is because I might not be able to get a lot of chapters out for a bit- school and all.

REVIEW! Use that little button on the bottom left that says 'submit review'

And drop me a line, even if its to say you hate me.


	4. Let’s save Brooklyn, yeah?

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Three: Let's save Brooklyn, yeah?

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Thanx to me beta! I think im getting the hang of the accents! -grin-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse are a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Jack came back, it was to a solemn safe-house. His eyebrow's shooting up to nearly his hairline he walked in, eyes wide when he saw David sitting on a bed, the right side of his face red and puffy looking.

"What happened to ya?" He cried in shock, striding forward to check his friend over. But the younger just pushed him away and crossed his arms sullenly. Well, this was a side of David he hadn't seen before that was sure.

"Davey...?"

"Red decked him." Crutchy spoke up suddenly, "Or so I've heard."

David turned to glare at him, and that was the answer to that question. "Why?" Jack asked, looking around at the Brooklyn newsies. "What happened?"

None of Spot's boys were going to spill, so he placed his hands on his hips and faced his own. "Well?" He demanded.

No one answered him. "DAVID!" He snapped, spinning and jerking the other to him with his shirt collar. "Tell me. Now."

David told him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

_"Here, Spot." _

_Spot looked down in surprise when Red handed him a cane, the top made of glimmering gold. "Wha...? What's dis for?" _

_"Congratulations." He grinned at him, "Leadah." _

_"What!" Spot couldn't keep his shock from his voice. "Leadah? But I thought..." _

_Red ruffled his hair with a wide smirk. "Thought I'd take de job? Naw, why did cha think I was trainin' ya so hard?"_

_"I..." Spot didn't have an answer to that, so he could only grip the cane tightly and ask a question of his own. "Do ya...Do ya really think I can do dis?" _

_His trainer shook his head with a chuckle, reaching out to turn him around, just as the light was sinking from the sky, painting all of Brooklyn with a soft glow. "I think youse can do dis." _

_Spot looked out over Brooklyn with wide eyes, all this was his...All he saw...That was his now. His turf, his responsibility. It should have been frightening. It wasn't. _

_"In dat case..." A smile split his face, "YOU'RE MINE!" He called, raising the cane into the air, letting the light catch it. "YOU'RE MINE BROOKLYN! D'YA HEAR ME! YOU'RE MINE!" _

_Red clapped him on the back, bursting out laughing, "Yes, Spot. Yours." _

"Red..." Spot whispered, eyes opening wearily. Brooklyn wasnt his anymore, and his delusional visions from his past werent going to change that. No...He was going to change it. Biting his lip against the pain he started to move his arms, the chains clinking about his wrists.

He had hoped and prayed they werent broken. He had only got half of his wish. The left one wasn't broken, but his right was. Oh god...They had taken his fighting arm. How was he going to get out of this now?

His eyes closed, and he could almost feel the tears starting to fill them. He couldn't take this. His entire body ached, he could feel what had happened to him after he had lost consciousness the night before. He felt dirty, he felt wrong...he felt violated.

_"Leadah's don't let themselves be beaten by anything, they don't cry!" _

"But, Red..." He whispered, a tear sliding down his face. "After what they did ta me...I cant...cant keep em back..."

"What are ya, a baby?" A voice snapped, "I told ya, Leadah's are above de pain."

Spot's head snapped up and he sucked in a breath. "R-Red!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Red slipped a coat on around his shoulders, shrugging into the material. He had thrown a dark cap on over his head, somewhat hiding his trademark crimson hair. Sticking Spot's cane into his belt-loop aside his slingshot he looked at himself in a cracked mirror.

He looked ridiculous, he looked like an idiot...he looked like a newsie. Stifling a laugh he pulled the hat down a bit. He had never been just a newsie, he had almost never sold papes, maybe once or twice in his life. He had been Spot's right hand man, taking care of all those who were trying to get at Brooklyn.

He had failed once.

"I don't plan to fail again." He murmurred, spinning on his heel. Time to go save his little Spot. That was his job, wasn't it? He was, after all, a Brooklyn boy.

Enemies beware. Red was back.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Red!" Spot cried again, "Get me down from 'ere!"

Red stood with his arms crossed, feet planted well on the hard ground. His eyes were ice cold and sent a shiver down the younger's spine. "Why? You don't need me."

Spot jerked back like he had been slapped. All the color drained from his face. "W-Wha...? Come on, Red! Stop...Stop joshin...get me down, man."

"No." It was simple, hard and true. "Im not joshin and I aint gonna get ya down. You deserve to rot up dere." He came closer and trailed up the tear that had fallen down the other's face. "You aint worthy nuff for Brooklyn, ya baby."

The world spun and Spot could almost feel the floor beneath him give way. His eyes were wide, fixed on his best friend's face. "Red...don't...please..."

"Please?" Red threw back his head to laugh, "Beggin' now, eh Spot?" He pulled back his arm and slammed his fist into the youth's stomach so hard all the oxygen left him in one short wheeze and he was left to gag, gasping in air as he choked.

"Die 'ere, ya useless piece of crap. I don't know why I even cared bout you. You're nuttin but a burden." And he spun on his heel and left Spot with tears cascading down his face.

"Red...Please...Don't leave me 'ere...please..."

His best friend and trainer didnt even look back.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Red shut his door behind him, the rays of the setting sun painting the world around him in oranges and reds. His hand trailed over the top of the cane, _'Im comin to get ya, Spot.' _

"D'ya think you were goin' alone?"

Red turned to the side just in time to see Jack push off from where he had been leaning against the building. "What are ya talkin bout? I am goin on my own."

Jack snorted, "If you think you can make me stay, feel free to try."

When Red didnt respond, Cowboy pulled his hat onto his head, pulling the brim low.

"Let's save Brooklyn, yeah?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A little shorter. Sorry bout that, but I really wanted to end it here. -grin- im a cliffie person. Hehe.


	5. Mark my words

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Four: Mark my words

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Again, word to my beta!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse are a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Hey...Red?" Jack murmured as they made their way to Queens. It had been more than a few hours, and the cowboy was getting a little wary of the silence."David told me about your side."

"Yeah?" He said, a slight tightening around his eyes as his hands closed up in his pockets.

"What happened?"

For a while, Jack sighed and pulled his hat down a little, certain his partner wasn't going to tell him, but then Red began to talk, and he began to listen.

"It was 'bout a year after I started to train Spot to be leadah." His voice was low-pitched, soft even. "We were doin well, or as well that could be expected with newsies from all over New York tryin' to take us over..."

_"You're gettin real good, Spot." Red commented as he looked over his pupil's handiwork. Broken bottles lay on the ground, a few harder to get ones just slightly hit or not at all. But he was getting better day by day. _

_"Yeah?" The little kid looked up at him with a smile, but then a hardness flitted into his eyes. That was becoming more and more frequent actually. He was growing up quick. "But when am I gonna be as good as you?" _

_Red glanced down at him for a second before his hand moved, pebbles flying through the air to smash through the five bottles that were left. "When ya can do dat, kid." _

_Spot's eyes were wide, "I...I'll neva do dat, Red!" _

_He ruffled the youth's hair, stowing his sling-shot back in his pocket. "Sure ya will, Spot. Its gettin late, though. Why don't you head on back to the safe-house?" _

_"Aren't you comin wit me?" He asked, hanging his sling-shot by his belt loop. _

_"Naw, I'll be along in a bit. I got a few things to check on, ok?" _

Jack glanced over at him, "What were you checking on?"

Red licked his lips, "I heard rumors that Queens was trying to sell papes on our turf. I went to check it out."

Cowboy whistled, "But wouldn't it have been better to wait till ya had more men 'fore you went after em?"

"I was foolish." He whispered.

_"Brooklyn trash!" A foot landed another kick to Red's side, making him gasp and curl up on the ground, blood dripping from his mouth and from a cut across his face. _

_"At least...Im betta than youse...Queen's dogs..." He managed to rasp, "I don't...crawl on the ground...licking my master's feet.." _

_"Shut up!" Something came down hard across Red's back and he screamed, jerking and trying to get away from the ring of older boys that surrounded him. _

_One of them laughed, pulling the horse's whip away, stained with blood. "Whose a dog now, eh?" He brought it back for another strike before a hand reached out and snagged his wrist._

_"No. Wait a minute." _

_Red looked up, eyes glassy from the pain, "Hit me again, ya sissies! Hit me, I don't care!" He spat blood onto the ground and waited for it. But it never came. _

_Instead someone squatted in front of him, ebony hair falling over a pair of black eyes to match. He looked older than anyone there, eighteen, nineteen maybe. He chuckled, "I like that spirit, boy. Why don't you come and work for me." _

_Red snarled, his eyes flashing fire. "I work fer Brooklyn, not fer some piece of crap that aint worthy of the bottom of my leadah's shoe!" He spat some blood at the other, satisfied when it hit him square on the cheek. _

_The newcomer reached up and slowly wiped it away with the back of his hand while his men cried out in rage. _

_"Karlof." One of the newsies came forward a little. It was the one with the whip. "D'ya want me to teach him a lesson?" He snapped the weapon, growling angrily at Red. _

_"No." Karlof said, and that was all the warning Red got before the elder grabbed his head and slammed it against the stone underneath him. The redhead gasped, the world spinning and doing flips, his vision turning gray. _

_"Get me the brand." Karlof said as his newsies cheered. "You say you're Brooklyn's property?" He asked with a smirk as he bent his face closer, "We'll have to change that." _

"They branded me." Red said heavily, lifting his shirt to flash his side at Jack.

The other winced in sympathy, "Then what?" They had almost reached the warehouses by the water, which was where Spot most likely was, but they still had some area to cover first. "I mean, they still wanted Brooklyn, right?"

"Oh yeah, they wanted Brooklyn." Red let his shirt fall back, his hand stopping to run over the top of the cane before pulling his coat over it. "They sent half of their men to take it."

"What happened?" Jack was enthralled. He had never known about this.

"Spot took care of em." Red sounded beyond proud as he lifted his face to the morning light. "The kid didn't have a clue as to what he was doin', but he protected Brooklyn, and the newsies backed him. He neva knew that was why he got the leadah's position so early in life."

"How did you get away from Karlof and them?"

Red grinned at him, "Whaddya mean, Cowboy? I got away because im from Brooklyn."

Jack laughed, clapping him on the back, "Oh, im sorry. I forgot you Brookies are good at that kind of stuff."

"Darn straight."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Karlof was, slightly to say surprised to come back and find a defeated Spot waiting for him. "What is this? Giving up?"

Spot mumbled something under his breath, sagging in his bonds, his pants still down and his shirt unbuttoned. He shivered lightly, it was cold in the dark and damp warehouse, with the wind from over the water not helping any.

"Im surprised. The way that one newsie spoke about you, I would have thought you were better than this."

The youth's head rose a little, "What newsie?" He snapped weakly. If they had hurt one of his boys...

Karlof waved it off with a wave of his hand, "It was a few years ago, a tall red-headed kid with a sharp tongue. Spoke about you like you were the greatest thing in the world."

Spot's eyes were wide and his mouth fell open slightly. _'Red?' _His mind cried, _'Red was here!' _He moved slightly, trying to take some weight off his already aching arms as his captor smirked at him.

"I see the brand came out real nice." He touched the still tender skin and Spot bit back a hiss. "You know, you're the second Brooklyn boy to wear our mark. Sign of the future, perhaps?" He laughed, "Although, you screamed more. Enjoyable, that was."

"Second?" He rasped, trying to get away from the hand that was stroking the brand tenderly. "Whaddya mean?"

"You're not real bright, are you?" The elder snapped, "Honestly, how you can lead Brooklyn is beyond me...Although there is nothing but trash over there anyway-"

Spot snarled, his head throbbing from where he had hit the other. "Don't talk bout Brooklyn like dat!"

Touching his forehead, where some blood had welled up, the other cursed and backhanded Spot so that his head flew back against the wall. "You little BRAT!"

But Spot Conlon was having enough of this. He turned his head back, blood dripping from the side of his mouth, eyes a silver blue fire that made Karlof back up a slight step. "Bring it." He snarled, "Ill pay ya back ten-fold when I get down from 'ere."

The Queen's leader backed up, trying to not let his fear show on his face. He had never seen such eyes before. "You'll pay for this, boy. Mark my words, you'll pay!"

Spot snarled, "I'll be waiting, Karlof."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

here we are- more action for you Spot fans. -smile- then again, if you werent a fan, why would you be reading this?

Now drop me a line using the nifty button the bottom left that says 'submit review' the more reviews i get...the faster i update!


	6. Leave me ‘ere Red

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Five: Leave me 'ere Red.

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt gonna be that much longer, unfortunately. -whine-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Hey, David!" Someone was shaking him, hard, and he grumbled and rolled over, slamming the pillow over his face. There was silence and he sighed, burrowing back under the covers. Sweet blissfully silen-

"AHHHHHHHHH!" He screamed, leaping twenty feet in the air, ice water cascading down his face, soaking his clothes, and the sheets of the bed. "WHATS YER PROBLEM!"

It was Mush, who just jerked his finger over his shoulder. "You might want to check out what our guests are doin'." He held an empty bucket by his side, "They're tryin ta leave."

"Leave?" He blinked, pushing wet bangs from his face. "What are you talking about? Half of them can barely stand!"

"Its true!" Crutchy hobbled up to him, "They have a bunch of sticks and stuff to help them walk. They're goin after Red and Jack!"

David got out of the bed, stripping off his wet clothes and pulling on something dry. "Mush, you and Crutchy go keep them here. I have to go do something but I'll be right back. Don't let them leave, you hear me?"

They nodded and David ran down the back stairs and out the door, pulling a cap on over his wet hair as he went. So Brooklyn was trying to back up their leader and co-leader. Wasn't too surprising, all things considered.

It was time for him to call in an old favor.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Get outta my way!" Shorty snapped, leaning on a stick and facing Mush, who was blocking the door. "I swear if you don't im gonna soak ya!"

Mush grinned a bit, "Oh yeah? Bring it little boy, ill hold you and your boys back."

Docks growled from the back, where he was being supported by another Brooklyn newsie. "This aint funny! We're gonna go help Red!"

"David told us to keep you here and thats-"

The doors opened then, from the outside. David stood there, framed in the morning light. His eyes roamed over his fellow newsies and Brooklyn, who were a sorry yet hopeful sight indeed. _'You're one lucky boy, Spot Conlon.' _He couldn't help but think, _'Your men are willing to die for you, thats more than most can lay a claim to.' _

"Whats the deal, David!" Shorty tried to push past the much taller Mush, "Why are you doin' this ta us!" There was a chorus of 'Yeah!', but the other only smiled.

"What did ya expect to do? Walk to Queens?" He moved slightly, revealing Denton atop a carriage, an extra horse standing patiently next to him, snorting as his tail swished. "This is faster, don't you think?"

For a minute it was completely silent and then Docks let out a loud whoop and everyone joined him, moving en masse to pack themselves in the carriage. By an unspoken command, the younger newsies stayed behind, looking mournfully out at them from the safe-house.

David leapt up on the horse, turning slightly to gaze at all the faces looking out the carriage windows at him. He raised his hand, pulling his cap off and waving it in the direction of Queens. "Lets go help our leaders! Brooklyn! Manhattan!"

Denton smiled as he prodded the horse and carriage forward, David and the other horse at his side. "Just like old times, eh, David?" He called with a chuckle over the roar from the newsies.

"Yeah, Denton. Just like old times."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" Jack hissed as he followed Red through the maze of warehouses on the water's edge. "Everything looks the same back here!"

Red turned to put a finger to his lips, signaling silence. "I know where im going." He muttered, "But we have to hurry, im sure someone saw us come here, its only a matter of time before we get seen again."

"I thought you Brookies were good at this." Cowboy ducked through a door after the redhead, brushing a spider's web from his face.

"We aint criminals, Jack." He arched an eyebrow and skidded to a stop, ducking into the shadows and pulling the other with him.

"What-"

"Shh!" He murmured just as a Queen's newsie passed by, his friends right behind him. As soon as they were gone, Jack looked at his partner with a new respect. He hadn't even heard them coming.

"Let's go." Red slid forward again, his eyes focused on a large half-collapsed warehouse in the distance. He would bet anything that was where they were keeping Spot. After all, thats where they had taken him.

_"Aren't you pretty?"_

Red shivered, forcing the thoughts away. If he saw him...if he was behind this...if he had treated his leader the way he had treated him...god help him if he had touched a single hair on Spot's head...Because if he had...

He was going to kill him.

"Karlof." He snarled under his breath, his hands clenching at his side.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Leader!" One of the smaller newsies ran in then, sliding to a stop in front of Karlof, "Leader...I saw them! They're here!"

Karlof raised an eyebrow, sitting up in his chair. "Are they now?" A smirk touched his lips and he looked to the side, "Whip."

The large newsie with the horse whip thrown over one shoulder, nodded at him silently. "Yes sir?" He smiled, as if already knowing what was to be said.

"The red head is yours, do what you will with him." He got to his feet and stretched, "Who else is here?" He asked the kid.

"Cowboy from Manhattan!" He sounded half-excited and half-scared.

"Really?" The Queen's leader chuckled, "Fresh blood. He can be the first Manny to be branded then." He cast a sharp look down, "Get the boys ready."

The kid nodded and ran out, smiling as if he had just be told Christmas was coming early.

A fight! He hadn't seen one in oh so long.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Red opened the door to the warehouse and felt his heart stop dead in his chest. Jack came up next to him and froze as well, eyes riveted to what he saw chained to the wall at the other end of the room.

"Spot..."

Spot's head raised weakly, his skin marred with bruises, his shirt wide open, brand in full view, his pants still around his ankles. His hair hung around his face in strings, eyes half glazed over in pain. His right arm was starting to turn purple near his elbow, broken to be sure.

Red strode across the room, cursing Karlof and his family for generations back, eyes ablaze. Jack had to nearly run to keep up with him, startled at the sheer creativity of some of the curses that were coming from the older teen.

Spot blinked, "Red...?" He murmured, "What are you doin' 'ere?"

"What do ya think im doing 'ere!" He cried, "Im getting you away from this place!"

The younger truly looked confused, "Why? I thought you wanted me to die 'ere."

Red paused his workings on the chains, horrified. "What are ya talkin bout, kid? I would neva want dat!"

"You told me...yourself." He whispered, his strength starting to give out again, "When you were 'ere, before..."

Jack exchanged confused glances with Red. "Spot...No, we just got here." Cowboy explained, "Red wasn't here before...You must have been imaginin' it."

"No..." He shook his head a little, "I know...I know it was you." Tears welled up in his eyes, "You even talked about...when I yelled at you..."

"Matthew Christopher Conlon." Red snapped, jerking his face up, "Look at me, I was NOT here before, I would never leave you 'ere, never in eternity, you hear me?"

Spot blinked at him, "What did you say?"

"That I would never leave you 'ere?"

"No...My name." His eyes were clearing up slowly, "No one knows my name but Red..."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Spot, this IS Red, now be quiet so we can get you down, okay?"

"NO!" The shout was so unexpected that both rescuers jumped back ten feet, startled and looking around for a threat. There was none. "What's wrong, Spot?" Red asked, brow furrowed.

"You cant get me down." Spot said slowly, "Because I want you to leave me 'ere, Red."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

yay! Yet another chappy done!WOOT!


	7. Big Man Denton’s standin’ up

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Six: Big Man Denton's standin' up!

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt gonna be that much longer, unfortunately. -whine-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Excuse me?" Jack pulled back a little, "Leave you here? Why in the world would be do that!" Red seemed to agree, if the surprised look on his face were any indication.

"Im not worthy." Spot whispered, head falling forward, "Im not worthy nuff for Brooklyn..Leave me 'ere...Where I belong..."

SLAP.

"If I ever hear those words come from your mouth again, Matthew, ill soak you." Red snapped, his hand stinging from where he had openhanded the other. "You're the best we've eva had, and you aint leavin' us now!"

Spot stared at him, eyes cleared from either the words or the action. "Red...man...I..."

"Save it, kid." Red worked on the chains again, "I understand, trust me, I do. But don't you ever say you're not worthy of Brooklyn again. It aint true, and you know it. Jack, get in front of him so he doesn't fall."

One of his arms fell free and Spot let out a cry, sagging into Cowboy's arms, shivering as he bit down on his lower lip hard enough to taste blood. "Its okay, Spot, I have you." Jack whispered soothingly as Red got his other arm down and started quickly on the leg braces.

Spot looked over then, intent on murmuring a thank you, but his eyes fell on Red's side, revealed by the open shirt. "Red!" He hissed, "That brand..."

"You're not the only one who has revenge that needs to be dealt out, Spot." Was all he said as he jerked the chains, slipping the other's bruised legs from their bonds and pulling his clothes back together so he looked somewhat decent.

He was going to kill Karlof. He knew it was him, who else would use the brand and rape the victim? It had his stench all over it, and his anger flared. He was going to kill him, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

"Come on, buddy." Jack swung the youth's arms over his shoulders. "Lets get ya outta here, yeah?"

Spot looked small now, next to Cowboy and he shook his head, mouth clamped shut. Jack blinked, but it was Red who knew what he needed. Silently he slid something off of his belt and into Spot's hand. It was the cane.

Looking down at it with a spreading grin on his face, Spot Conlon raised his head, his eyes flashing. "Lets get goin' bois."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

David looked behind him at Dalton and the carriage. They were making good time, all things considered. At this rate it wouldn't take them that long to get to Queens. From there, all they had to do was find the others and end all this.

He hadn't thought they would be expected.

"David!" Denton cried, a second before someone tackled the newsie to the ground, slamming his head onto the dirt. The horse, spooked, neighed and reared, zooming off up the road, just as several boys armed with sticks and boards came out of nowhere. He got a glimpse of a few faces before a fist slammed into his face and he went limp.

"Davey!" Shorty yelled, seeing what had happened as he tried to fend off their attackers with his bare hands. Some of the boys began to leak out of the windows, a few taller ones using the sky light to pull themselves up on the roof. Anything to get out.

They werent going down without a fight.

Especially when they were up against other newsies like this.

"What happened?" Race called from the back as he wiggled out the back window, dodging a blow from a wooden plank.

"What's wrong wit David!" Someone else yelled, slamming a stick into an assailant's eye. "What's wrong!"

"He's down, Davey's down!" Shorty jumped out of the carriage, slamming his elbow into an older boy who thought he'd be easy to take down. "Lets help! They aint gettin us that easily!"

"Yeah!" Docks cried, leaning on a piece of wood as he hobbled down the stairs, waving abother long stick a la Spot style, "Brooklyn!"

"Whoohoo!"Mush jumped down from the top, taking down two others as he fell. "Lets get em, Manhattan!"

The newsies spilled out of the carriage and Denton jumped down from the driver's seat, slamming his own fist into the face of a large newsie who came out of nowhere, a lead pipe held back to take a swipe at the reporter.

"Denton!" Kid Blink cried in shock, "What was that!"

Turning slightly, the man smiled a little, "What? Did you think I was going down without a fight?"

"Woah!" Mush laughed as he pushed a newsie into the side of the now vacated carriage. "Big Man Denton's standin' up!"

The reporter tipped his hat, as he spun away from a few boys that apparently thought he was a big threat. "So what's that mean? Do I get an honorary newsie title now?"

Docks raised his stick in the air, smacking a random boy in the face with it. "Heck yeah! Denton! Brooklyn will take ya anytime!"

Race snorted as he ran up, his knuckles bruised. "Heck no! We found him first!"

Denton shook his head with a laugh, but then his eyes caught something and all the laughter fled his face. "DAVID!" He cried, halting all activity around.

David was on his knees, head tilted back as hands scrabbled at the wire around his throat, the ends being held by a tall kid with jet black hair, a pair of dark pants covering his legs, with a dark shirt just thrown on over a bare chest.

He snarled, jerking on the wire a little more, making David's eyes clench in pain. "Freeze or ill kill him 'ere and now. I mean it."

No one doubted him in the slightest.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Red took a few steps out of the warehouse door, looking around with a sharp eye. "Sometin's not right..." He murmurred, "Its too quiet..."

Jack saw him first, but there was no time to call out a warning past a hurried, "Red!"

Red spun, eyes wide as Whip leapt from the shadows, tackling him and sending them both rolling across the ground, fists flying.

"OI!" Spot cried, moving forward, his hand already on his cane, but he didnt get very far at all. Over twenty newsies poured in from the sides, forcing Spot and Jack to retreat back into the warehouse, metal pipes clutched in their hands.

"What do we have 'ere?" A few of them laughed, "An escapee?"

Jack snarled, stepping slightly in front of Spot. In his mind, the leader of Brooklyn was in no shape to fight. Spot, however, had other ideas. He pushed past Cowboy, cane in his hand, eyes flashing. "I've had just bout 'nuff of you!"

The leader raised an eyebrow as he came forward, towering over the smaller Spot. He cracked his knuckles, "Think ya got sometin to prove, eh, runt?"

"DON'T CALL ME DAT!" He snapped, switching hands and giving the one in front of him a solid blow to the nose that made him stagger back.

"You little..." He cursed, is hand over his bleeding and broken nose. "Ill kill you-"

"Calm down." A new voice called, coming from the back of the warehouse. "What did I tell you? Spot here is mine."

Spot snarled, Jack at his side. "Karlof."

He smirked as he came forward, sleeves rolled back, a knife in his hand. "Who ever said I was going to just let you walk out of here, Spottie?"

"I never expected to just walk outta 'ere." Spot stood, feet splayed, cane clutched in his left hand as opposed to his right. The way he was talking, he didnt even seem concerned that they were outnumbered 10 to 1. "I _expect_ to walk outta 'ere over your dead body."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

hehehe, yeah, here we go. -grin- let me tell you guys something. The reason why this one pales considerably next to my other stories, is because this one was completely written first. This one is done, I already finished it. The others im writing as I go. **So, please give this a shot and tell me if you're reading it, okay? It gets better, it does. **

If not in this one, then in its SEQUEL. Yes, sequel.

So, use that button on the bottom left that says 'submit review' and drop me a line okay? And it doesn't matter if you have an account or not.


	8. The Bronx would like ta fight with you

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Seven: The Bronx would like ta fight with you.

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt gonna be that much longer, unfortunately. -whine-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"You talk big, but can you back it up?" Karlof nodded at his men, "All right then, Spottie. If you can get through my boys here, then I'll give you the fight you're looking for. If not." He shrugged, sitting on the edge of a nearby crate. "Its no skin off my back."

Jack looked sideways at the kid he and Red had come all this way to save. Spot could barely stand, that much was obvious. How was he expected to fight! Of course, as the brawl started, the cowboy realized he hadn't known Spot Conlon at all.

The guy was a machine, who, when he had one purpose in mind, forgot all else. And he had a purpose all right. To see the Queen's leader soaked, and then bleeding on the ground. That was what the light haired teen was going for, and Jack could bet his life on it.

Spot was going to kill him.

"Come on!" Spot cried, swinging his weapon through the air, striking a guy against the neck, "Ill take ya all on for Brooklyn!"

Jumping up on a metal ladder that ran up to the rafters, Jack scrambled up it with at least five men on his tail. That left Spot with about 15 to handle by himself. They were going to die here, he just knew it. They didnt have the numbers for this, nor the resources. He had only his fists, and if Spot lost the cane...

It would be over.

Kicking his leg backwards, he caught one of the men in the jaw, sending him flying backwards, all the way to the floor a few feet below. He yelled the entire way down. Spot glanced over his shoulder, barely able to make his friend out.

"Ya alive, Jack!"

"NO!" Came the shouted reply and Spot couldn't help the smile that flitted across his face as he tore away from someone who thought they could jerk the cane from his hands.

"Ya know what they say bout Manhattan!" He laughed, "All softies, every one of em!"

Jack pulled himself up onto a rafter, backing up slightly, daring his pursuers to follow him out high above the floor. "Yeah! Well all that's in Brooklyn are annoying midgets who cant do nothing but smoke and sleep!"

Bashing someone in the head with the end of his cane, Spot spun on his heel, eyes

flashing a pale fire as he led his own group toward the other ladder. Up there, the smaller the boy

the better the movement. Both Spot and Jack were considerably smaller than their attackers. "EXCUSE ME! WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, KELLY!"

"KEEP YA EYES ON THE FIGHT, WILL YA!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Coming to a rest near the water, Red sprung to his feet, cursing himself for not thinking to grab a few weapons before starting out on this suicidal rescue mission. Whip was already getting to his feet, unfurling his namesake and snapping it at the ground.

Red's eyes followed its path, the memory resurfacing whether he wanted it to or not. Hands clenching at his sides, he let out a steady breath, "I have a headstrong kid to get back to, so lets make this quick, yeah?"

"I aint makin no promises." The newsie smirked, "I gotcha right where I want ya, and im gonna have some fun."

_"Listen to me, Whip." Karlof snapped, toe to toe with the large teen. "All you have to do is keep that redhead away from us, you hear me? We can do the rest, but by no means are you to let him go. If he gets back to Spot, it'll be your head!" _

He planned to keep Red nice and busy. For as long as it took.

He liked his head where it was.

"What are you waiting for?" Red snapped, "I thought you were going to have some fun?"

The whip crackled and wrapped itself around the other's left arm, jerking him forward, right into the Queens newsie's fist, snapping his head back, something cracking as he staggered, barely able to move as a knee came up crashing into his stomach.

Spinning on his heels, Red's elbow slammed into his groin, the heel of his hand striking the younger man under the jaw, his fist slamming into his nose at the same moment. "Eat dat!"

Whip made a move to rush him, but the kick to his chest stopped that attempt, and as he rolled over, a booted foot crushed his wrist, pinning the whip to the ground. "Im in no mood ta play with trash like you." Red wiped some blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've got an appointment wit ya boss."

_"If he gets back to Spot, it'll be your head!"_

Cursing, Whip's other arm came around Red's knees, jerking him off balance as he pulled the horse whip back, cracking it against his opponents legs, making him cry out in pain and fall on his butt, clutching at his bleeding legs in agony.

Getting to his feet, Whip brought his hand back, expecting it to end here, but Red had other plans. Despite the pain he felt he jumped forward, ducking under the blow and crashing into the other, tackling him to the ground again, rolling them both down the hill and into the water, his fist slamming into his jaw again and again.

_"It'll be your head!"_

His eyes wild, Whip's hand moved like a blur, the hard handle of his weapon slamming right against Red's temple, making him cry out and fall into the water with a splash, hands going to his ringing head as his vision blinked out.

_"Spot..."_

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Dave!" Race cried, "Let him go ya sissies!" He tried to get past the ring of men around him, but all he got for that was a face full of elbows and a few punches at his stomach. He fell back with a curse, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead.

"Let him up now!" Denton cried, "You're killing him!"

David's eyes were closed as he gasped, hands clawing weakly at the wire, blood starting to drip down his throat and stain the collar of his shirt. He couldn't breathe! Was he going to die here after all? What would Jack say? Something about how he was weak, most likely, something about how he couldn't take care of himself-

_"Come on, Davey, ya gonna let this thug take ya?"_

Eyes shooting open, his mind went back on its own to his own 'training', or in other words, Jack watching as several older boys beat him within an inch of his life. It had been terrible, he had gotten soaked, no matter what he did or did not do.

_"Ya have to feel the fight, Davey!" Jack told him as they were walking back to the safe-house for some bandages. _

_"I am feeling it!" David snapped. He was feeling it quite well, all over his body. _

_"No, no." The other frowned as he tried to put it in terms he would understand. "You have to feel it here." He touched the other's chest lightly, right above his heart. "You have to feel the fire, the desire to do what you had to do. When you're life is on the line, you'll know what I mean, but I hope you learn before that happens."_

_"I do too." He laughed along with his friend, "But I don't see how my life would ever be on the line with you, Mother, hanging over me like this." _

If only he had known this would be happening a mere few weeks later. He might not have played it off, he might have taken Jack seriously. But now, it was too late. How was he supposed to get out of this one?

_"When you're life is on the line, you'll know what I mean."_

"I said stay back!" The wire jerked back against his neck, even as Denton tried to come forward again. It was then that David felt the anger, the rage. He wasn't going to die here! Not like this! He was going to be a big reporter with an office overlooking New York. He wasn't going to be another victim of the streets.

Snapping around, he dropped, legs sweeping out and knocking the man behind him to the ground even as he ducked to avoid the wire. It had barely cleared his head before he leapt to his feet, eyes burning as he pinned his attacker, fist held all the way back to strike.

But he didnt hit him.

Instead, David got to his feet, hand held out to the one on the ground. The kid looked at his hand then at his face, staring at the Manhattan newsie like he had just sprouted another head or some other unusual appendage.

_"Ya see, Davey, I aint always right, either. Sometimes you have no choice but to fight, but there are some times when being the calm one is the better option." _

_"Are you saying there is something im better than you at?" He had meant it as a joke. _

_But Jack just looked at him with a stern expression. "Yeah, David. Thats exactly what im saying." _

He was hoping to God Jack Kelly had been right. "I know that you're the Bronx kids Queens took over." He hadn't moved, hand still held out in offer, never wavering. "And I know you aren't too thrilled about it either."

"So? The Bronx doesn't exist any more. Queen's owns us now." The kid snarled, but there was something, something there in his eyes, and it was to that something David grabbed a hold of.

"Yeah? So you're going to just give up? Let them walk all over you instead of fightin' back?" His eyes flashed, "What kind of newsies are you? After all we've accomplished in the past, you're just going to roll over? You're a disgrace, Bronx is a disgrace!"

"Don't talk bout us like that!" One of the men around Mush yelled, "Bronx doesnt give up! We don't just roll over!"

"Then show me!" David yelled, turning a little to look over his shoulder. "All I see here are a bunch a sissies who let themselves get takin over without even a fight!"

"Why you little-" He snapped, taking two steps toward David, fury on his face.

"Quiet!" The leader snapped, gazing up at the other with new respect, "You're right, buddy. Maybe we have been a disgrace, maybe we did give up without a fight." His hand shot up and clasped David's as the latter pulled him to his feet. "But it'll end now. The name's Ace, leader of the Bronx."

"David, im just a Manhattan newsie."

Specs, who was leaning up against the carriage bit back a snicker, "Yeah right! This here is David "Mouth" Jacobs, co-leader of Manhattan and you better treat him with respect!"

Ace laughed, "That so? Well, David "Mouth" Jacobs, co-leader of Manhattan, Im going to give you something I rarely give to anyone."

"What is that?" He asked, their clasped hands falling as he ran a hand through his hair.

"An apology...And a request."

"Apology accepted." He frowned slightly, "And the request?"

"The Bronx would like ta fight with you. If you'd have us."

David paused, turning all the way around to look over his shoulder at his men. His eyes roamed over Dutchy and the rest of the Manhattan newsies arm in arm with their Brooklyn brothers. "Well? What do you say?"

"HECK YEAH!" The group cried, cheering and whistling as David and Ace spit sealed it. They had gotten themselves another group of newsies that would help to, if not completely topple the scales. They would be out of here with their missing friends in no time.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

-whistle- heh, I updated again for you guys cause im a nice person. So...reviews? Pwease? -puppy dog eyes-


	9. A sound that echoed for all eternity

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Eight: A sound that echoed for all eternity

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt gonna be that much longer, unfortunately. -whine-

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It happened within a split second. The board Jack was standing on began to creak and groan, giving way under his feet, sending him crashing toward the floor so far below. His hands flew in all directions, trying to find a hand-hold, something he could grab a hold of.

"JACK!" Spot cried as he fought on a nearby alcove, among bags of hay and other such items. Taking a running leap toward the edge, the leader of Brooklyn grabbed a hold of a hanging rope as he took a kamikaze jump off the sharp edge, praying the twine was strong enough to hold his weight.

It did, wonder of all wonders and he swung a hand out, grabbing a hold of Cowboy's hand and jerking him to a stop. "Spot...!" He gasped, clutching at the other's hand with sweaty fingers. "Don't...drop me...!"

"Then stop MOVING!" He bit back a cry of pain as a cold sweat dripped down his face. He was holding to the rope with his bad hand. In his mind, either they both fell, or neither of them did. But it hurt so much!

"Good show!" Karlof clapped from where he was still sitting. "But how, pray tell, are you to get down? Perhaps you will sprout wings?"

Spot's teeth pierced his bottom lip as he looked up at the sky, as if praying. Jack made a sound of complete shock as he realized exactly what his friend was planning. "Don't-"

Spot let go of the rope.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When Red came to, he was underwater. Panicking, he thrashed around, trying to buck away from the crushing grip on his neck. Arching his back he managed to break the surface, gasping for air.

"Gah!" Whip growled, fingers digging in the other's flesh as he pounded Red's head back down, the muddy water swirling over his head.

Inhaling water, the newsie gagged, his throat swelling as he tried to both spit out the water while attempting to not take anymore in. The result of this failed tactic?

He was drowning.

The panic in his mind began to calm down as he stopped struggling. What was he doing! If he continued to freak out like he was, he would only drown, and how would that help? He would have been letting the big brute win. What was he, an idiot?

His hands stopped tearing at his neck and instead flew blindly from the water, slamming, by pure luck, into the other's face with a resounding crack.

Yelling, Whip jerked back, his hands loosening just enough for Red to flip him, the back of his head colliding with a pile of rocks that littered the dirty water. Blood splattered over their surface, dripping into the water that Red fell back to, chest heaving.

Gray had begun to ease into his vision, spots dancing before his eyes. He didnt even have a chance to take a few deep breaths of cool, refreshing air before he was staggering to his feet, willing his legs to take the first few steps, and then a few more, slowly making his way up the hill, leaving Whip's body bleeding away into the water.

He had to get back to Spot, at any cost. Something was wrong. Something terrible was going to happen, and he needed to get back to his leader. Something was very, very wrong.

He just knew it.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"ARE YOU INSANE!" Jack screamed as they fell, eyes closed for the deadly crash that would splatter his body all over the dirt floor. He had expected it to come soon, but not quite as soon as it did.

"Oomph!" He was startled to land on something relatively soft and he looked around in alarm. An alcove. He had landed in a bloody alcove, how lucky was he? Of course, it hadn't been luck at all, but a careful planning from Spot, who...

"Spot!" Jack flew forward, sliding on his stomach, hand swiping out to grab the younger's wrist, jerking him to a halt. Spot looked up wearily, his eyes glazed over again with the pain. He did, however, manage a soft smile.

"Ya know, im gettin real tired of you savin me."

Jack just shook his head, "Well, learn how to fight and maybe I wont have t-" A booted foot slammed into his chin and he crashed into one of the wooden beams that held up the rafters. All the breath exploded from his lungs, his grip loosening.

The leader of Brooklyn gasped, clinging to the slack hand as he tried to jump up and grab the edge of the wood. His fingers closed around the lip just as Jack let go and a cry was forced from his throat as all his weight was focused on his broken arm.

"Sp-" Jack began, but a punch to his jaw silenced him and he could just barely make out the large man who had walked to the edge, staring down at Spot with a sneer. He didnt even have a chance to scream a "NO!" before the Queen's newsie stomped hard on the fingers, wrenching another cry from the abused youth.

"Fly, little birdie." He smirked, grinding his heel and then kicking Spot's grip loose.

His silver-eyes wide, Spot fell down with a sharp yell, arms coming over his head as he landed hard on the ground, body completely still. For a moment all was silent and then Jack screamed, tackling the big man to the floor of the alcove, hands on the other's throat as his own neck received the same treatment. It was all a test to see who could choke the other to death first.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"So, you didn't know who we were?" David asked with a raised eyebrow as Ace rode next to him on his own horse. "I find that hard to believe."

"No, honestly!" Ace held up his hands, palms out. "We had no clue, all we knew was that Karlof wanted you all stopped before you got to Queens. As to why..." He shrugged.

"Well, the why is really simple." Mush was leaning out the window of the carriage, letting the wind ruffle his hair. "That scab took Spot Conlon so he could take Brooklyn."

"Spot Conlon!" Ace cried, eyes widening. "I heard that he had gotten a new slave, but I never knew..."

"Spot is not a slave!" Shorty and the rest of the Brooklyn newsies cried, having heard the other leader's comment. "Don't you dare call him dat!"

"I apologize." He nodded toward them and then smiled at David. "Loyal bunch, are they?"

"Extremely." He chuckled, leaning back a little and pulling his cap off his head to let the breeze run over him. "Well, the reason why Manhattan is involved is because Red, the co-leader of Brooklyn came to us for help and he and Jack Kelly went off to rescue Spot. I..." He shot an irritated glance back at the carriage, "Had no choice but to take those insane Brookies out here, or else they would have came themselves."

Ace shook his head, "Jack Kelly is a good man, and Red! I havent seen Red since before Spot was leader. He used to patrol the borders all the time and he and I would run into each other once and a while." He looked ahead to Queens, the warehouses coming into view already. "I think Karlof is mad, risking everything for a chance at Brooklyn."

"Oi!" Docks cried, pushing Dutchy away from the window so he could glare out it. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing really!" He laughed, riding ahead a bit with David. "'Cept for the fact there aint nuttin in Brooklyn but a muddy trickle they call a river."

The younger newsie threw his head back to laugh. How could he not? He was just imagining Spot's face if someone ever called his river, 'a muddy trickle' to his face.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Karlof waved his boys back as he walked the few feet to where Spot was sprawled on his stomach, his foot moving to leisurely push the supposedly dead kid over on his back. However, Spot was anything but dead.

Spinning to his feet, his hand was a blur, cane sweeping out to crash against the other's head. There was a flurry of movement and then all was still. Spot's eyes were wide in disbelief as he stared at the end of his weapon, held firmly in the man's fist.

"I wont be that easy, kid." He snapped, pulling the cane sharply, jerking Spot forward, almost of his feet. But the kid wasn't letting go. Not for any reason.

"I tire of this, boy!" Karlof gave an almighty pull, sending Spot flying toward the crates, rolling on the ground before he jumped to his feet, lithe as a cat. But where had...?

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Red's lungs were burning and he pushed himself as far as he could, every cell in his body crying out in warning. Spot...He had to get to him...He had to! Sprinting into the warehouse he cast a look around, immediately seeing Jack up in an alcove, on his back, hands scrabbling at the hands that were around his neck.

As much as he wanted to help the Manhattan boy, he was there for one reason, and then he found him. Spot was standing at the other end, the pile of lumber separating the two of them. He was about to call out to him when he saw Karlof behind Spot, who didnt see him and who was in a crate with a word on the side.

'G' 'U' 'N' 'S'.

"SPOT!" Red yelled, leaping over the stash of wood with all his anger and desperation behind his speed. He couldn't...wouldn't..."_SPOT_!"

The leader of Brooklyn turned, the world in slow motion. He saw Red rushing towards him, but why? What was...? Then he saw it, and the scene would be etched in his mind forever.

Karlof, pulling something from a nearby crate.

A sharp sound that echoed for all eternity.

And...

...Blood...

"RED!" He screamed in horror.

It took the other forever to fall, his head thrown back, shock on his face. His eyes seemed to lock with Spot's for a moment before he hit the ground, the sound of his head hitting the dirt loud in the leader's ears, resonating over and over.

"_RED!_"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

I couldn't help it- I HAD to update! This story, literally, has a few chapters left. And that's it. -pout- but I really want to know youse guys reactions to this chapter. So review!

Using dat nifty button on the bottom left of the screen that says 'submit review' and you don't have to be logged on, or even have an account! Ciao for now.


	10. A father, a friend, a brother

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Nine: A father, a friend, a brother.

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt going to be much longer AT ALL. Its almost over!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Time was frozen.

Spot's shocked eyes moved from the gun Karlof clutched in his hands to Red, collapsed on the floor, arm thrown over his face as a pool of blood spread underneath him, inch by inch over the dirty floor.

And he snapped.

"AHHH!" He roared, flying forward, vision turning crimson. He pulled his cane back, baseball style. He heard nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing. But HIM.

Karlof saw his death in those flaming silver blue eyes, but it was too late. He managed another shot, but it went too wide, spinning harmlessly past Spot's right ear.

With an almighty THWACK that echoed through the warehouse, the leader of Brooklyn brought the golden end of his cane straight against Karlof's temple.

The stunned man fell like a sack of potatoes, not another sound coming from his throat, not another word was spoken at all except for a soft, whispered...

"...Spot...?"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Jack had heard the gunshots and he struggled even more, nails split and bleeding from where he had tried to break his attacker's grip. His vision was starting to darken on the edges and he struggled harder, not even noticing as someone vaulted up the ladder, fist slamming into the nearest thug and knocking him clear over the edge.

There was an almighty roar of noise and then the boy strangling Jack was no where to be found. Jack coughed, hands flying to his throat as he looked up at his savior. He thought his eyes were going to burst out of his head.

"D-Davey!" He rasped, not able to help thinking that his best friend had never looked better, standing there with a cap sideways on his head, a solid piece of wood in his right hand.

Taking the hand that the other offered him, Cowboy looked around in half surprise and half pride as he leaned momentarily against David.

Manhattan had come to help.

Blinking his shocked eyes over the edge he turned to David, "That aint just Manhattan."

"Nope." He shook his head with a grin, "That would be Ace and Bronx t-too..." His eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. Confused, Jack followed his gaze and froze as well.

"Red..."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Ace called his boys to a halt, eyes riveted to Spot Conlon, a guy he had never actually met face-to-face, but one who, like everyone else, had heard of. He had always thought the Brooklyn leader would be something to be feared, something that would install fear into anything he looked at.

At least, that was what they said about him.

But all he saw was a kid, a broken and weary kid who did not deserve what had been done to him. He couldn't stand looking and turned his face away, especially when he saw the redheaded youth on the ground. He knew without a second look that there was nothing that could be done. He had seen guns and their work before.

Red...wasn't going to survive this wound.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Hobbling on their sticks and leaning on one another for support, Brooklyn came tumbling in the door, expecting a fight. But there was no fight to be had. Instead they stopped, frozen on the threshold, their mouths open in shock.

They saw their leader, standing with his hands at his sides, his face unreadable, his eyes a haunted thing as everyone stopped, even the Queen's group. Karlof's body lay just behind Spot, head bashed in. No one breathed, no one spoke, save for one...

"...Spot..." Red tried again, his eyes cracking open wearily as a hand traveled to the dreadful bullet hole in his chest.

Spot snapped out of it and flew forward, "Red!" Falling to his knees, he pulled his friend into his arms as best he could, "Red...Are you okay...?"

The elder licked his lips, eyes half lidded, the emerald that once burned as sharp as any fire now dulling even as Spot watched. "Im...glad I met ya...Leadah..."

Fear clutched the newsie's heart, clutched and tore great wide gashes in it. "Wha...Whaddya talkin bout? You sound...ya sound like ya sayin' good bye..."

He chuckled weakly, "I do...do I...?" He reached up and ran a fingertip under the youth's eye, coming away with a tear. "What d-did I tell ya? Leadahs...dont...cry..."

Jack came down from the alcove, arm thrown over David's shoulders, his eyes pain filled as he looked upon the sorry sight. The Brooklyn newsies were utterly still, each of them watching as the fatal wound took its toll on their co-leader, a young man who many of them had looked up to, whom many of them treated as a father, a brother, a friend.

Red's hand went limp, eyes closing and head falling back against Spot's chest with a last sigh. He looked peaceful in death, serene even. All around the newsies took off their caps, saluting the loss of one of the greatest newsies the town had ever seen.

He had been a leader for a time, a patrol man, a man whose name was said in line with, if not before, Spot Conlon's own...at least at the beginning. After he had installed Spot as leader he had faded in the back, kept out of the fights, out of the gossip.

It was almost like he hadn't existed from then to now.

"R-Red...? Come on, man..." He whispered, hardly registering that the fighting around him had stopped. "Don't do this, dont...please...? Look..I understand now...listen to me, all right!"

_"Leadah's don't let themselves be beaten by anything, they don't cry!" _

"I didnt understand...when you told me those words..." Spot whispered as he held Red's body in his arms, tears streaming down his face. "That what you really meant was...that it was okay to cry." He smiled weakly, pulling back, "See? I get it...so, wake up Red. Wake...Up..."

He screamed, head bowed over his best friend, "JUST WAKE UP RED!"

Jack turned his head away, unable to bear it anymore either. He and David averted their eyes, and slowly, one by one Ace's men faded out of the warehouse, followed by Manhattan, leaving Brooklyn and their leader alone in the warehouse, which was silent except for Spot's frantic calling to a friend who would never ever hear him again.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Welll...yeah...heh...hehe... -runs before you an catch me-

use that button on the bottom left of your screen to review! And It doesn't matter if you have an account or not!


	11. Goodbye, my bruddah

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Ten: Goodbye, my bruddah

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt going to be much longer AT ALL. Its almost over!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Ace and his men took them to the border of Manhattan before they turned toward home, having quite enough clean up of their own to deal with there. Jack and David got down to shake the youth's hand and with a final tip of his hat and a salute, Ace was gone.

Denton turned the carriage toward home and the solemn procession continued on, the safe-house coming into view relatively quickly. No one wanted to be on the streets anymore. That much was obvious.

The young newsies who had stayed behind rushed to the door, all ready to party with the others over the defeat of Queens and Bronx. I mean, what else could have...happened...

They stopped cold on the doorstep.

The carriage was deathly silent, Jack and David sitting next to Denton while he drove, eyes on the ground, neither of them looking up even as they came to a halt.

On the horse sat Spot, eyes red from crying, mouth a thin line. In front of him, head bowed over his still chest was Red, blood stained clear through his jacket and splattered on his shattered face.

Spot's broken arm kept Red's body from falling as he pulled his mount to a stop and dismounted, carefully pulling his best friend down into his arms.

"Spot?" It was the first word anyone had dared to utter. No surprise that it was from David.

"Spot?" The dark haired newsie tried again as everyone filed out of the carriage. "Maybe you should...you know, Denton...He can take care of it..."

The leader of Brooklyn tensed, but dished out no resistance as the reporter gently took Red from him and settled him on the ground, wrapping him up in a dark colored blanket. He was about to cover his face when David's hand shot out, halting him. He looked up, confused, but David just nodded over at Spot, who was staring down at his hands.

Spot didnt even know where he was. All he saw was blood covering his palms, his arms...dried blood, new blood, running over his fingers. It was choking him, he was drowning in it. No, not it. 'It' was Red... Red's blood on his hands. His breath was ragged and uneven even as he felt someone calling out a name. Who was Spot? Why did they keep saying that name! Didn't they know there was no one by that name here! Why couldn't they just shut up! WHY COULDN'T THEY JUST SHUT UP!

"Matthew!"

_'Red?'_

Spot's head shot up. Jack, it was Jack. Jack who was leading him toward Denton, Jack who wiped the blood from Red's face, Jack who looked back at him with a soft look on his face.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

Goodbye...He was dead.

Red was dead.

He shook his head hurriedly, not wanting to get any closer. Red...he couldn't be dead! He had just been laughing with him, had just been joking around...They were going home, they were going home so they could tease the other's about worrying! They were going home- this was some sort of mistake! Some terrible, terrible mistake!

Jack sighed softly and waved his guys forward. Each of them knelt by Red, whispering something only meant for the redhead's silenced ears. No one heard what each other said, and no one asked. At last, Brooklyn came forward leaning on their sticks and boards, sinking to their knees. Everyone heard what they had to say, but that was all right.

Their were no dry eyes in the place when it was time.

Spot Conlon's shaking hands went to his side as he knelt to the ground, pulling something off of his belt-loop. With his boys at his back, Spot slipped his sling-shot into Red's hand, leaning over to kiss him softly on the forehead. It took him a few tries, but finally he forced the words out, and when he did, they were strong, proud, and...full of compassion and love. Trust and honor.

"Goodbye, my bruddah."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"He's been in there quite a while, hasn't he?" David asked softly as they sat outside the outer door that led to the washroom. Spot had gone in there the minute Denton had left with Red's body, and hadn't been seen since then.

"I'll check on him." Jack got to his feet, a little more than slightly worried about the leader of Brooklyn. He made his way into the room, motioning David to stay. Sighing, he knocked on the last door. "Spot? You okay in there?"

Sobbing reached his ears and the newsie's heart thumped hard in his chest. He couldn't stand to see the strong Spot like this, it wasn't natural. Not at all. He shut the door softly behind him and looked over to the corner, where the tub was.

The sight he saw both saddened him and angered him. If Karlof wasn't already dead, he would have stormed to Queens and done it himself at that very moment.

Spot was kneeling in the tub, shivering as the once hot water turned ice-cold around him. Tears were streaming down his face, his skin red and torn in some places where he had rubbed himself raw.

He looked up at Jack's soft intake of breath, but instead of yelling at him to get out, or he'd stick something up his rear and twist, he just opened his mouth and whispered, "I...I cant...get clean..." And he went back to scrubbing at his chest, skin tearing and blood starting to well to the surface. He was going to scrub himself raw if someone didnt do something.

Before he knew what he was doing, Cowboy had snagged the hand that held the rough sponge and squeezed until it fell over the side, using his other hand to, above Spot's soft cry of pain, pull him into a fierce hug.

Spot was so startled his eyes were wide, his tears momentarily on pause. No one had done this before. No one would dare. "Wha...?"

"Im sorry." Jack whispered, hardly caring that his clothes were getting soaked with the freezing water. "Im so sorry, Spot." Even his own voice was choked up.

Slowly Spot's wide eyes slid shut as he sobbed, head falling forward to the older boy's shoulder. "I cant...cant get clean...no matter how hard..."

"Shh, Spot, shhh..Don't worry about that now, okay? You're clean, I swear..." He was cut off as Spot tried to jerk away, trembling violently and making a pass for the sponge on the floor within easy reach.

"NO! ITS MY FAULT!" His fingers closed over it, "ITS ALL MY FAULT! I HAVE TO GET IT OFF ME!"

"No, Spot!" Jack nearly fell in the tub himself as he jerked the other back, smacking his hand so hard that the bath item flew all the way across the room, "No its NOT your fault!" He winced as Spot's elbow crashed into his face, but he didnt let go. "Listen to me- OW! Spot!"

"LET ME GO! IM UNCLEAN! LET ME GO!"

"RED WOULDN'T HAVE WANTED THIS!" Jack screamed and all the fight went out of the Brooklyn leader like a switch had been thrown.

Panting, he licked his dry lips, "Red...Wouldn't have wanted you to try and hurt yourself, Spot. Would you do this to him after he died for you?"

Spot's shoulders were hunched and he relaxed in Jack's arms, "No...No...I wont..."

"Good. Good, Spot...It'll be all right now, you'll see." A tear slid down his own face as he held Spot tightly to him."You'll see...Everything will be all right now..."

They stayed like that until they both cried themselves to exhaustion...

And there were no more tears left to shed.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

puttin em all up tonight.

So giveth me reviews!


	12. A miracle, that

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Eleven: A miracle, that.

Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?

**Warning: **Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!

Guys, this story isnt going to be much longer AT ALL. Its almost over!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Well, the good news was they had gotten Spot out of the tub before he died of hypothermia, the bad news? They had to keep going up the stairs to make sure he hadn't killed himself.

Seriously, the leader of Brooklyn had taken a liking to sharp objects and anything that had a blade. Crutchy had nearly had a heart-attack when he had went upstairs with the other's lunch, and found the boy on the bed, slashing his wrists with a bread knife.

Ever since then Jack decreed Spot was to have someone with him every time of the day, every day. It didnt matter, somehow he would sneak away, blend away for a second, and then it was open season on his arms.

He had nearly died once, but David had found him bleeding on the ground behind the house and took him to the nearest doctor, who bandaged him up and gave everyone a stern lecture on NOT leaving him alone.

Didnt matter now.

"Come on, Spot..." Jack didnt know what to do. He was sitting beside the other newsie, David on the other side. The leader of Brooklyn was staring down at the ground in between his legs, eyes glassy and half lidded. He had cried until there weren't any tears left. He had tried to kill himself until that failed. It was weeks later and Spot...Spot was now...

Now he was slightly catatonic.

"Spot, Red wouldn't have wanted you to do this. He would have wanted you to go on living." The room silenced, hoping that would get a rise out of Spot.

No such luck.

Normally that would have gotten David a solid punch to his jaw, but not this time. Spot just shivered, pulling his head down a little and hugging himself tighter.

The newsies around the room could only stare in shock at what had become of Spot Conlon. He was Brooklyn, the man most of them feared...How could one death shake him this much? Granted, it was Red, but...

"Please, man..." Jack started, but something cut him off.

The door opened and complete silence fell, everyone's eyes fixed upon the door. Except for Spot, of course, who was still gazing at the ground and yet past the ground at the same time. As if he could see into the very bowels of the earth itself, or maybe into Hell. Yeah, Hell would be good. He could jump headfirst into Hell, he could-

"Spot." It was a soft whisper, but it made his head slam up in shock.

Red stood in the door.

Spot didnt even remember moving, but suddenly he had thrown his arms around Red, head burrowed in his shirt, sobbing hysterically. "God...Red...!"He didnt care if he was a ghost, an apparition, a made up vision he had created! It didn't matter, because it was HIM.

Red smiled softly, patting his back soothingly. "Its okay, Spot...Im here, im here and I aint goin no where." It startled him to see the other like this, broken and vulnerable. He didnt think he mattered so much.

Jack stared in complete shock, everyone was. If Spot had run at thin air, they would have called him mad. If a few of the newsies around had seen Red, then they were all insane. But for the _entire_ room to see him, hear him, _alive_...?

That wasn't madness, that was reality.

Denton stepped in after him, shutting the door with a soft click. He raised his hand and smiled broadly at the leader of Manhattan. "Alive all this time!" He reported, "A little healing and...POOF, a miracle!" He waved his arms grandly, indicating the apparently alive Red, whom Spot, apparently, was trying to choke back to death.

It was indeed a miracle. But before they could celebrate, they all waited to see how one of their number would take the redhead coming back to life.

It was a few minutes later, when Spot's sobbing had died down, that the younger pulled back and promptly punched the other so hard he staggered backwards into a table.

"What was DAT FOR!" Red cried, holding his jaw in shock.

"If you EVER scare me like that again, im gonna KILL YOU!" Spot cried, eyes flashing silver blue as he clenched his hands at his sides."I WAS CRYING FOR YOU, YOU...YOU..."

"Handsome? Tough? Rugged?" He laughed, striking a pose, "Dashing? Smart? Oh, I know, Wonderful man?"

"...STUPID IDIOT!" He came at him in a blur, "STUPID STUPID STUPID IDIOT!"

The entire room was silent for a moment and then burst out laughing as Red kicked out, sweeping Spot's legs out from under him and starting a brotherly scuffle on the floor with lots of mock punches and fake injuries.

Denton came over to sit next to David, his hat in his hands. "A pure miracle, that. Bullet missed his heart by a hair's breath. A mere half a centimeter closer and he would have been six-feet under by now."

"Well, ya know what they say." David laughed, "God only calls home those who he needs. Obviously Red aint done here yet."

Jack looked at him from the corner of his eye, taking in the white bandage that still wrapped around his thin neck, hiding the red scar from the wire that might always be there. Few of his men had come out with any injuries at all, come to think of it. Scrapes, cuts, certainly, but out of Manhattan, he and David had received the worst of it.

"Ill give you one guess." He said cryptically, in response to the earlier comment. There was only one reason why Red would be needed here for any longer after all he had achieved.

That would be for Spot.

"Well, I better go." The reporter got to his feet, "I'll see you guys around, eh?"

"Thanks, Denton!" The newsies around the room cried, those who werent riveted on the brawl that was. The man tipped his hat and was gone, leaving the boys by themselves.

Jack and David smiled at each other as both sides, Manhattan and Brooklyn started to call out encouragement and cat calls to the two fighting boys.

"Nice to have things back to normal, eh?" David laughed.

"MATTHEW CHRISTOPHER "SPOT" CONLON!" Red managed in between his fits of laughter, "GET OFF ME!"

"GAH!" Spot yelled, "DON'T CALL ME DAT!"

Cowboy shook his head, pulling his hat onto his head and tipping it to hide his eyes as he leaned back, "Always, Davey. Always."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

THE END!

**Just kidding! Come back and read the epilogue ya slackers! It'll be great fun, trust me! And a surprise...**


	13. Epilogue

For Brooklyn

By: Ambrlupin

Epilogue

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah. Nor do I own the songs in here, it was just for fun, I swear!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was late one night during a party in the safe-house when Jack and David got up, catching some of the other's attention. They grinned and jumped up on two chairs.

Jack:

Startin' now  
He's the king of Brooklyn.

David:  
Ain't ya heard?  
He's the king of Brooklyn.

Spot stopped talking to Red and turned, his eyes wide. "What the...?" The tune was altered slightly to fit in with the new words, and those words were what made him want to both laugh and cry. Jack and David sang, the words changed here and there to fit him, and then Red was on the table, smirking down at him in that annoying way only he could.

Red:  
Ain't ya heard?  
He's the king of Brooklyn!

Jack, Red, and David:  
Holy cow  
It's a miracle  
Bronx's cryin'

Queens is dyin'  
Flashpots are shootin' bright as the sun  
He's one highfalutin' son-of-a-gun  
Don't ask me how  
Fortune found him  
Fate just crowned him  
Now he's king of Brooklyn.  
Look and see  
Once a piker

Now a striker  
He's the king of Brooklyn.  
Victory!  
Front page story  
Guts and glory

He's the king of Brooklyn!

Spot shook his head and a devilish grin lit his eyes as he jumped up next to Red.

"Once and for all  
Something tells me the tide'll be turnin'  
Once and for all  
There's a fire inside me  
That won't stop burnin'

Now that the choices are clear  
Now that tomorrow is here

Watch how the mighty will fall  
For once and for all."

The newsies laughed and whistled as Spot nudged Red in his side.

"Once and for all

We'll be there to defend one another

Once and for all

Every kid is our friend

Every friend a brother."

Red's eyes were tearing up slightly, but he threw a shoulder around Spot's shoulders, smirking as they finished it at the top of their lungs.

"Five thousand fists in the sky

Five thousand reasons to try

We're goin' over the wall

Better to die than to crawl

Either we stand or we fall

For once, BROOKLYN!

Once and for all!"

Red and Spot cracked up laughing, leaning on each other to keep from falling off of the table. Without a word, Spot held up his cane, and Red grabbed it just below the other's hand.

"We protected what is ours,

nows all we got to do

is keep on skippin through the flowers

Brooklyn this was for you!"

Jack busted out laughing, swiping at their heads. "What the heck! Are you two DRUNK!"

"Well, we had...a little ta drink..." Spot smirked at David, thinking he was Jack. "Nuttin...ser-serious..."

"Yeah!" Red cried, nearly falling over. "Nuttin...seri...seri...what he said!"

David shook his head with a chuckle, "Whoo boy, can this get any worse?"

He should have known better than to say that for with Brooklyn around, the answer to that was always yes.

And Brooklyn was always going to be around.

THE END (for real this time!)

**OR NOT!**

**Sequel!**

Someone ran in the house then, chest heaving. It was a girl a little younger than Jack, it looked like, with honey colored hair pulled back from her face. When Spot saw her he froze, the laughter dying from his face. "Caroline." He whispered.

Red stood ramrod straight, gazing at her in barely restrained anger. "Whaddya want? You've no business 'ere!"

"Matthew..." She hardly seemed to care about the angry looks she was receiving or the snapped sentence from the tall redhead. "Mom and Dad want you home. We're leavin' New York and yer comin with us."

Whoo boy! We aint done with this yet!

No sir we aint!

Come back and read Part two of 'For Brooklyn' wont ya? It'll be up here, under the name,

'_**For Brooklyn 2'**_

starting in a few days. So come on! Whatcha waitin for? Review already and then come back for more Brooklyn newsies action!

Spot: And for more of ME!

Red: Why would they come see YOU? They're comin back to see ME!

Spot: Are not!

Red: Are too!

Spot: NOT!

Red: TOO!

Spot: NO- OOMPH!

Ace: -stands on top of Spot- You're both wrong. They're coming back to see ME!

Spot and Red: -nod at each other- AHHHHHH! -tackles Ace and soaks him- WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO COME SEE YOU!

Ace: NO! NO! HELP!

Jack: -raises eyebrow- what do ya think, Dave? Should we help him?

David: nope.

Jack: okay then. -sits back with a box of something and offers some to David- Popcorn?

David: why yes, thank you.

Ace: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Ambrlupin: All right boys, thats quite enough. -closes curtains- See ya all later!


	14. Bloopers N' Stuff

For Brooklyn

By:Ambrlupin

Extra: Bloopers N' Stuff

Rated R for use of the F-word.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

_Interview:_

How do you feel...knowing that you've hit the end of the trilogy?

Red: -Sigh-...Its tough, ya know? I mean, we've all gotten so close, it'll be hard...to just go on with our lives, realizing that there's not going to be anymore.

Spot: Im happy! Are you kiddin me? I don't have to go through any more crap, strung up, raped, branded... But, seriously, its been fun, being apart of this project and I really couldn't have asked for a better set of people to do it with. -nod-

Race: ...do it with? Spot, man...I... -shakes head-

Spot: You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Race: -smirk- oh yes please.

Red: -laugh- oh no...

Ace: -runs on set- I didn't forget you! -leaps on Red-

CRASH.

Ace: Ow. Shit.

**BLOOPERS**

_For Brooklyn:_

(Prologue)

_"Hullo Davey." A voice cut through David's concentration, making him glance sharply over toward a nearby alley. Sure enough a match was struck and a pinprick of fire cast a shadow over Jack Kelley's face as he lit the cigarette hanging from his lips. "What are ya doin' out thi- Fuck!"_

David: -snort- what did you do?

Jack: -Waves hand- burnt myself...

(Chapter one)

_"What is goin on ere?!" He cried, striding forward, boots pounding the dirt. The doors were barred, leaving David outside, banging on them and yelling at the top of his voice for them to let him in. "Davey...ow..."_

Blink: ..we aint...-laugh- housin' em...Jack, you okay?

Jack: as well as could be after bein hit by a rock, thanks.

_Spot didnt have an answer for that one so he just walked back to where he had started. He took a deep breath, and then his hand was a blur, load and shoot. One by one the bottles shattered, a sort of music only Spot was able to create. _

"_Spot." Red murmured softly, his voice cutting through the air with more force than a shout. The leader faltered, and the unthinkable happened. _

SHATTER.

Red: you do realize...you weren't supposed to hit that.

Spot: -blows at top of his slingshot like a gun- I know.

(Chapter two)

------- None --------

(Chapter three)

_None of Spot's boys were going to spill, so Jack placed his hands on his hips and faced his own. "Well?" He demanded._

_No one answered him. "DAVID!"_

-David: bursts out laughing-

Me: whats so funny?

David: He spit on me!

_Red shook his head with a chuckle, reaching out to turn Spot around, just as the light was sinking from the sky, painting all of Brooklyn with a soft glow. "I think you can do dis." _

Spot: ...nope, sorry. I know how this all works out. I'll pass, thanks. -hands back cane and walks off-

_Red turned to the side just in time to see Jack push off from where he had been leaning against the building. "What are ya talkin bout? I am goin on my own."_

_Jack snorted, "If you think you can make me stay, feel free to try."_

_When Red didnt respond, Cowboy pulled his hat onto his head, pulling the brim low._

Red: you think you look so cool, don't you?

Jack: -suave smile- Yup.

(Chapter four)

_Red glanced down at him for a second before his hand moved, pebbles flying through the air to smash through the five bottles that were left. "When ya can do dat, kid." _

Spot: I can do somethin bettah. -pushes-

SPLASH

Red: -sputtering- ...cute.

_The other winced in sympathy, "Then what?" They had almost reached the warehouses by the water, which was where Spot most likely was, but they still had some area to cover first. "I mean, they still wanted Brooklyn, right?"_

Red: no they suddenly changed their minds and wert after Queens. Honestly, have you even READ the script? -Scoff-

_Red grinned at him, "Whaddya mean, Cowboy? I got away because im from Brooklyn."_

_Jack laughed, clapping him on the back, "Oh, im sorry. I forgot you Brookies are good at that kind of stuff."_

Red: we're good at a lot of things. -eyebrow-

Jack: -Tries not to laugh-

Red: -smirk- how _you_ doin?

(Chapter five)

_Denton smiled as he prodded the horse and carriage forward, David and the other horse at his side. "Just like old times, eh, David?" He called with a chuckle over the roar from the newsies._

Shorty: Oooo! What were the 'old times' Davey? -catcall-

David: -Blush- shut up.

(Chapter six)

_Docks raised his stick in the air, smacking a random boy in the face with it. "Heck yeah! Denton! Brooklyn will take ya anytime!"_

_Race snorted as he ran up, his knuckles bruised. "Heck no! We found him first!"_

Docks: well you cant have him!

Race: you cant either!

-enter ominous music and sound of weapons being drawn-

SHICK

Denton: ...hoshit. -RUNS-

_Red took a few steps out of the warehouse door, looking around with a sharp eye. "Sometin's not right..." He murmurred, "Its too quiet..."_

_Jack saw him first, but there was no time to call out a warning past a hurried, "Red!"_

Whip: MY LOVE! -tackle-

Red: O.O

_The leader raised an eyebrow as he came forward, towering over the smaller Spot. He cracked his knuckles, "Think ya got sometin to prove, eh, runt?"_

Spot: -smirk- not at all. It speaks for itself, thank you very much.

Karlof: -covers face laughing- Too much information, there, Spot.

Spot: l-augh- sorry, Karl.

(Chapter seven)

_Jack pulled himself up onto a rafter, backing up slightly, daring his pursuers to follow him out high above the floor. "Yeah?! Well all that's in Brooklyn are annoying midgets who cant do nothing but smoke and sleep!"_

Spot: I take offense to that, you know. I also Fuck Get it right, Kelly.

Jack: -SNORT-

_Red's eyes followed its path, the memory resurfacing whether he wanted it to or not. Hands clenching at his sides, he let out a steady breath, "I have a headstrong kid to get back to, so lets make this quick, yeah?"_

_"I aint makin no promises." The newsie smirked, "I gotcha right where I want ya, and im gonna have some fun."_

-insert random cough-

Red: ...all right, how many times have we done this? -chuckle-

Spot: im SORRY. Its just so...Dude, he's holding a WHIP.

Whip: -looks down- mmm...so I am. -pulls Red forward- mmm baby.

"_Ya see, Davey, I aint always right, either. Sometimes you have no choice but to fight, but there are some times when being the calm one is the better option." _

"_Are you saying there is something im better than you at?" He had meant it as a joke. _

Jack:Exactly, David. See? You understand...thats what I...Wait, what?

David:...Im sorry, I don't understand this man. -Walks off-

_Ace laughed, "That so? Well, David "Mouth" Jacobs, co-leader of Manhattan, Im going to give you something I rarely give to anyone."_

David: Yah? What's that, Daniel? I mean- shit.

(Chapter eight)

_It happened within a split second. The board Jack was standing on began to creak and groan, giving way under his feet, sending him crashing toward the floor so far below. His hands flew in all directions, trying to find a hand-hold, something he could grab a hold of._

_"JACK!" Spot cried as he fought on a nearby alcove, among bags of hay and other such items. Taking a running leap toward the edge, the leader of Brooklyn grabbed a hold of a hanging rope as he took a kamikaze jump off the sharp edge, praying the twine was strong enough to hold his weight._

CRASH

Spot: -Wince- oops. My bad.

Jack: Xx

_"So, you didn't know who we were?" David asked with a raised eyebrow as Ace rode next to him on his own horse. "I find that hard to believe."_

Ace: so do I. I mean, your reputation precedes you...

David: Exactly. Its all Jack's fault.

-offstage yell-

Ace: I do believe you're sleeping on the couch tonight, Dave.

_"SPOT!" Red yelled, leaping over the stash of wood with all his anger and desperation behind his speed. He couldn't...wouldn't..."SPOT!"_

_The leader of Brooklyn turned, the world in slow motion. He saw Red rushing towards him, but why? What was...? Then he saw it, and the scene would be etched in his mind forever._

_Karlof, pulling something from a nearby crate._

_A sharp sound that echoed for all eternity._

Red: OWWW!!

Karlof: Sorry!

(Chapter nine)

_"AHHH!" Spot roared, flying forward, vision turning crimson. He pulled his cane back, baseball style. He heard nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing. But HIM._

Karlof: -DUCK-

Spot: -laugh- Hey!

Karlof: -grin- oops. Reflex.

_There was an almighty roar of noise and then the boy strangling Jack was no where to be found. Jack coughed, hands flying to his throat as he looked up at his savior. He thought his eyes were going to burst out of his head._

Jack: David! -tackle- I love you!

David: -blink- thats it. I quit.

(Chapter eleven)

_"Spot." It was a soft whisper, but it made his head slam up in shock._

_Red stood in the door._

Spot: Jumps up and falls OW- Fuck! jumps back up and hugs Red

Red: ...-snort-

Spot: -laugh- lemme guess, not usable? Didn't think so. Lets go again.

_**Extra Clips:**_

_Pre-For Brooklyn_

(Ace and the Bronx)

"Now, why don't you just hand your land over to me, and we can all be on our way."

"Never." The other snarled, his eyes heated and flaming in rage, "I'd rather DIE."

"Such a temper." Karlof grinned, snapping his fingers. "However, even the wildest horse can be trained, if only you know its buttons."

"Ace!" A high pitched scream reached his ears and he spun, fighting against the guards on either side of him. They weren't giving though, and all he was doing was hurting himself.

"Enough of this, Cardoni." Karlof leaned back in his chair, arms braced lightly on the arms. Turning his attention to the herded Bronx newsies, he could make out one of his higher ups, Pain- called that on account of his favorite pastime- with a young girl in his hands. "Surely you can see where this is going."

"Stand tall!" A voice cried from the group, "Don't do it, Ace! We're with you!"

The roar that met with that statement rent the air, and Karlof and Pain exchanged a glance a second before the little girl cried out in agony. Her legs were stretched and bent to their limits, a mere move in either direction would dislocate them.

"Yes, go ahead and do it, Ace." Karlof sneered, "Do it, and ill make sure this one never stands again." He brought his hand up and Pain lifted his leg to bring it down.

"Stop!" Ace's eyes were twin pools of midnight crystal, flickering in rage. "Just stop."

Raising an eyebrow, Karlof leaned forward. "And if I do?"

Ace didn't even have to say anything. It was clear in his eyes. To save one, he would give up himself. The only problem with that, was if he gave up himself, he gave up the Bronx. He gave up his kids.

But he couldn't sacrifice one to save them all.

Karlof waved his torturer off, "One child? I honestly thought it would take more." He laughed at the look of embarrassment on the other's face. "Doesn't matter. I've gotten what I want."

Ace was forced to his knees, held there by a hand on the back of his neck. Fingers dug into his skin so hard he knew he would be bruised later. His pride roared to life and he nearly jumped to his feet, but bit back the urge.

A leader cannot ask others to do what he himself cannot.

His motto. His life.

"A leader, bowing to me." Karlof snickered, moving leg so that his booted foot nearly clipped Ace's face. "Take my boot off, oh great _leader_."

Biting back everything he was, everything he had ever been, Ace Cardoni removed the other's heavy combat boot and laid it on the ground, never once looking up to see that smug smile on Karlof's face, or the utter loss and horror on his boy's.

He couldn't handle it.

"Good." The Queens leader smirked, "Very good."

"Daniel..." Munch whispered, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't... Did the Bronx...Just get taken over?

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0


End file.
